


Honor and Love: The Gay Awakening of Nicolas Trevelyan

by lyrium addict (quirky_turtle)



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:15:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22763077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quirky_turtle/pseuds/lyrium%20addict
Summary: Maybe Nicolas had no hope of slaying the demons and saving the world from its utter doom. Yet, if there was one lesson he could take away from this, it would be that through marriage he could improve his station. If he could convince a lovely noblewoman to love him, he could improve his family’s standing.
Relationships: Dorian Pavus/Male Trevelyan, Male Inquisitor/Dorian Pavus
Kudos: 2





	1. A History of Nicolas Trevelyan

The House Trevelyan was a quiet household. They were of a minor nobility, so rarely were they called upon during times of distress. They were considered to be fair and just, never falling into fits of passion or rage. The best answer was always the one that was contemplated and seen from every angle.

Bann Trevelyan raised his sons to be experts in politics and, if the need should ever arise, battle. He was a stern man, but those around him knew that he cared for his children. Lady Trevelyan taught her sons the arts and how to be the most charming among nobles of higher status.

Not all of her sons took her lessons to heart. Her lessons were glorified fairytales and etiquette. Her youngest, Nicolas, thrived on her stories. The stories of Seekers and Grey Wardens. Tales of knights of old saving the beautiful young ladies. Nicolas wanted to grow up to become one of these legends.

At a young age, he declared his intent to become a Templar. He thought that by joining the divine order, he could achieve this dream. He could become heroic and slay the demons. His parents, who were devout Andrastians, were thrilled to hear this news. To have a child in the Chantry would be an honor. They immediately handed the boy over to follow his dreams.

However, Nicolas would not achieve these dreams. It is a rare occurrence, but he was not permitted to become a Templar. After five years of training his body, his soul would not fall in line. No matter how many times he tried, he failed his vigil. He could not find peace. Ashamed, he returned home, now a young man.

Nicolas returned to find his parents speaking frantically in hushed whispers.

_“King Cailan has fallen. Teyrn Loghain says that the Grey Wardens betrayed him.”_

_“The Grey Wardens would have no reason to depose the King. Why lie?”_

_“Who cares about that? With the failure in the south, the Blight could spread. We must be prepared.”_

Thus Nicolas was thrown into more lessons. If the Blight was to reach them, he was going to have to grow up fast. Even though he had spent the last five years away from his family, he was still a child. He had never seen battle. Bann Trevelyan saw to it that all of his children were taught to lead. They sparred with each other, they drafted plans of defense should the darkspawn every make it that far north.

Then, the Battle of Denerim happened. The Grey Warden Lucrezia Cousland had survived the slaughter that was Ostagar, and she had rallied the country of Ferelden together. She had brought the traitorous Teyrn Loghain to justice and slain the archdemon. Along the way, she had discovered love with her fellow Grey Warden and heir to the throne of Ferelden. She would now be Queen of Ferelden. She was a hero who had earned her happily ever after. Just like the heroes of old.

He had met Lucrezia at a part of great aunt Lucille’s. She had been considered the daughter of a minor Lord. There were no high hopes for her outside of marrying someone in her station and having a few heirs. But she saved the world and married a King. And she was only a few years older than him.

Maybe Nicolas had no hope of slaying the demons and saving the world from its utter doom. Yet, if there was one lesson he could take away from this, it would be that through marriage he could improve his station. If he could convince a lovely noblewoman to love him, he could improve his family’s standing.

~*~*~*~*~

“No Nicolas.” Cassandra rolled her eyes as she set down her sword. Nicolas almost pouted from his kneeling position on the snowy ground.

“Why not?” he asked, like a petulant child.

“I don't want to marry you.” She huffed, annoyed to have to be going through this.

“But hear me out. We are both nobility, we get along pretty well, and we are both devout! What else could a marriage need?”

“Love!” the Seeker exclaimed, interrupting the recruits training outside of Haven. They stopped and turned to see what the commotion was, but Cassandra was already walking away towards the Chantry.

“I love you!” Nicolas followed her into the gates of Haven.

“Romantic love, you idiot.” Cassandra shook her head again and sighed.

“How important is that?” Nicolas asked, confused.

“It's important to me.” She laughed, “Besides, I am Nevarran royalty. You are the last born son from a minor Lord in the Free Marches.”

“You are seventy-eighth in line for that throne, AND marrying me would piss them off.”

“That is true…” she smiled, the absurdity of the conversation amusing her to a degree, “But no. I will not marry you, Nicolas.”

“I'll convince you one day. Or I'm not the Herald of Andraste!” he announced loudly as he retreated into the Chantry in Haven.

A few months ago, the world had turned as normal. Now, there was a hole in the sky and in his own hand. Nicolas looked over his small base. They all looked to him. Andraste had chosen him to lead them. The Maker had blessed him with this mark that allowed him to help fix the tears made in their realities.

Now, all he needed was a wife of noble birth to fall in love with him during the heat of battle.

Cassandra Pentaghast of the Nevarran throne would do. He did care for her, deeply. Even if she had interrogated him and threatened to kill him when they first met. That was months ago. They had grown closer. However, she seemed resistant because of this notion of romance. He could do romance.

He walked into the Chantry, pondering how he could woo the hard exterior off his Seeker. He knew Josephine would kill him for being late to this meeting, but in truth, he did not care much.

“Herald.” Josephine greeted him when he finally entered her office.

“Please, call me Nicolas. Actually, you can get away with calling me Nic.” he winked at the Ambassador.

“Herald,” Josephine continued, unamused, “You were supposed to leave for Val Royeaux days ago. You are completely behind schedule.”

Nicolas grimaced. So, apparently his ambassador did have a limit for foolishness. He nodded, adopting a more serious look.

“I am sorry, Josie. I did not mean to cause you any more stress, but I wanted to oversee the construction of the watchtowers we promised to Dennett. I will leave right away.”

She looked surprised, not used to the Herald taking her complaints seriously. She nodded, “Thank you, Her- Nicolas.”

He bowed and turned to leave, ready to inform Cassandra, Solas, and Varric of their rapidly upcoming travels.


	2. Flirting

Flirting. Always in good fun. 

Many say that flirting is the most fun a noble can have without causing a war. 

But then again, some wars could be started by a simple handshake that lingered too long. 

Nicolas had considered himself an expert at flirting, despite his inexperience in all other forms of courtship. 

Flirting was a second language he was fluent in. The flirtations rolled off his tongue, as his eyes sought out appropriate partners. 

As the last born child of a minor Lord, if Nicolas was to marry, she had to be worth it. Socially and financially. So, Nicolas became an expert in determining if a target was marriage material within seconds of meeting them. 

He only flirted with the ones he considered worth it. 

~*~*~*~*~

“You’re kind of a force of nature, aren't you?” Nicolas smirked as he watched the Seeker train. A smarter man might have been more careful around the woman who had imprisoned and interrogated him on threat of execution. Nicolas was not that man. 

Cassandra turned to face him and glared. Alright, not the best place to start, but he could manage.

“When I need to be.” she responded once she set down her weapon.

“It’s impressive.” Nicolas continued on. Cassandra only rolled her eyes.

“You flatter me.”

“I’m trying.” Nicolas chuckled, not quite used to women not instantly flirting back. She would later deny it, but he could swear that he saw her lips quirk. The type of quirk that hinted at a smile. It was enough for him to consider it a win. 

He could woo this Nevaran princess. It was all in good fun. 

~*~*~*~*~

"You are too good to be true." Nicolas sighed as he watched Josephine draft letters that would in no doubt secure alliances for them, and change the fate of the world. 

Josephine blushed at his words, “T-thank you, Herald. Now if you please, I have much work to do.” 

“Of course, but I must say,” he stepped further into the room, “Your name, ‘Montilyet’ it sounds so familiar. I swear our families have met before.” 

He could instantly see her mind working, ““Perhaps. Everyone of distinction in the Free Marches attends Lady Trevelyan’s summer balls.”

“Great-Aunt Lucille always did love a party.” Nicolas chuckled.

“I don’t recall seeing you at any of them.” Josephine leaned in on her desk, waiting on the gossip he might be able to provide. 

Nicolas leaned in as well, “The food was peppered with too many attempts at matchmaking for my taste.” 

Josephine laughed at his response, grinning as she spoke, “A common peril among nobility no matter where one goes.”

Nicolas smirked, “However, I might have been able to stomach it all, had I known that you were attending.” 

She flushed again, speechless. 

Dazzling an Antivan diplomat. It was all in good fun.

~*~*~*~*~

“You’re rather strapping.” Dorian trailed off, flirtatiously. 

Nicolas laughed and complimented his friend, “I could say the same of you.” 

Dorian grinned, “Of course I am, anyone with eyes could see that.” 

“Lucky I have those.” Nicolas shook his head slightly as the man's grandiose behavior. A front, of course, but still funny. 

“You do. A rather fetching pair.” His voice dropped for a moment, all hints of teasing evaporated. 

Silence stretched between them for a moment, before Dorian cleared his throat. 

“At any rate, you didn't pass by to hear me fawn.” He smirked, “Something on your mind?” 

Nicolas searched his mind to remember the reason he came to talk to the mage in the first place. He came back empty. 

“I-I should go.” He stuttered. 

“Naturally.” Dorian stepped back, letting Nicolas hurry towards the stairwell. All the while, wearing a smirk on his face.

Flirting. It was all in good fun. 

Right?


	3. Gull and Lantern

“I prefer the company of men.” Dorian exhaled, “My father doesn't approve.” 

Nicolas blinked. Somehow, this statement took him by surprise and yet it did not feel like anything new. 

That's… an option? 

Sure, Nicolas had heard of it before. As far as he knew, not many people cared either way. However, he never thought of it in terms of himself. 

He and Dorian had flirted a few times, but he assumed it was all in good fun. Dorian flirted with everyone and Nicolas, well...he typically only flirted with women but with Dorian it seemed to flow naturally.

Dorian watched the expression on Nicolas’ face. Not quite sure what he was seeing. Confusion? No. Disgust? No. Relief? 

All too quickly, the noble smile fell onto his lips, “Well, I guess that explains a few things.” 

Dorian felt a little at ease, even if he couldn't tell exactly what the Inquisitor was thinking, at least it wasn't disgust. He could survive it all, as long as Nicolas wasn't disgusted by him too. 

~*~*~*~*~

The next day, Dorian paced in his tower, playing some words his father had said in his own mind. He heard footsteps behind him. 

“He says we're too much alike.” He began before Nicolas could ask, “Too much pride. Once I would have been overjoyed to hear that, but now I am uncertain.” 

Dorian trailed off as Nicolas stepped closer. 

“I don't know if I can forgive him.” he said, mostly to himself. 

“Can…” Nicolas paused, trying to find his words, “Can blood magic really do that? Change you, I mean?” 

“Perhaps. It also might have left me a drooling vegetable. I can't imagine who that Dorian would be.” The mage said in a detached tone, trying not to show how much the idea affected him. 

“I still don't understand why he would do that. Is it a...big deal in Tevinter?” Nicolas asked awkwardly. He was a noble, but he had only ever learned about the Free Marches. He was never expected to leave there. 

“Only when you are trying to breed the perfect mage. The perfect leader.” Dorian turned to face Nicolas, “Every family in the Magisterium is trying to arrange marriages to do this. I, selfishly, refused to marry the girl selected for me. I didn't want to spend my life screaming on the inside.” Dorian turned away to face out the window again. 

Nicolas processed what Dorian had said. For him, it had never been a question. Nicolas would have married whoever his parents put in front of him. He had grown up with the knowledge he would not be in love with his spouse. Nicolas would not have lived screaming on the inside, but maybe he wouldn't have lived. 

“I think you're brave.” Nicolas broke the silence finally, “You were willing to go against what was perfectly laid out for you and forge your own path. That's braver than me, at least.” 

Dorian whipped his head around, not expecting that answer, nor the heartfelt smile on the Inquisitor's face. To be honest, he wasn't sure what he was expecting. Tears almost came to his eyes. 

“At any rate, time to drink myself into a stupor.” He rolled back his shoulders, forcing on a believable display, “Join me, if you've a mind.”

Nicolas froze for a moment before stepping away from Dorian, “Maybe next time.” 

As he quickly left, Dorian tried to swallow this disappointment. What mattered is that Nicolas could accept him. Even if that meant only as an ally. As a friend.

That would be enough. It would have to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is when this series became a vent piece. As a queer woman, I had a lot of Nicolas' thoughts and this made me confront that too.


	4. ...Intimate

Dorian could not believe he was having this conversation. And with the clucking hen, Mother Giselle of all people! 

“I simply want to know of your intentions towards the Inquisitor.” She repeated herself, still not satisfied with any answer Dorian gave her. 

“My intentions!” Dorian repeated incredulously, “I am an agent of the Inquisition, not some bumbling suitor who can't keep his hands to himself.” 

“What's going on here?” Nicolas’ voice interrupted their arguing. 

Oh dear Maker, why now?

“Your Worship.” Mother Giselle instantly bowed her head in his direction. Nicolas nodded in acknowledgement before turning to Dorian. 

“It seems the Revered Mother is concerned about my undue influence over you.” Dorian spat. 

“Your Worship, you must know how this looks.” She began, but Dorian cut her off. 

“You might need to spell it out, my dear.” He knew that Nicolas, in his sheltered upbringing would not understand how quickly rumours could overthrow a rising power. 

“This man is from Tevinter and his presence at your side…” she began, sighing when Nicolas urged her to continue, “The rumors alone-” 

“I do love a good rumor.” Nicolas stated, his face shifting into something much colder than his traditional grin.

Mother Giselle stammered, not expecting this response, “I could not repeat them, your Worship.” 

“Ah, so you've spoken them before.” Nicolas cocked his head to the side, not easing up on the woman. 

Dorian almost laughed. 

“I meant no disrespect. As your advisor, I only had your best interests at heart-” 

“Perhaps I am in need of a new advisor then.” His tone was final, dismissing her without another breath. 

“I see.” She nodded before leaving the pair alone. 

“Well that was something.” Dorian broke the silence. 

Nicolas seemed to return to himself, the icy glare leaving his eyes, “Are you alright?” 

“Of course.” He plastered on a grin, “If anything I almost pity her. She was annoying, but she meant well.” 

Nicolas chuckled, “Perhaps I was a little hard on her.” 

“I don't know if you're aware, but the assumption in some corners is that you and I are… intimate.” 

Dorian held his breath, not sure how the Inquisitor would handle this news. Sure, he had been accepting of Dorian's persuasion, and had come to his defense. But in the last few weeks, all interactions between them had been few and far in between. And the few felt more rigid, less at ease than before. 

Watching as Nicolas furrowed his eyebrows, Dorian realized that this is the most normal it had felt in weeks. 

“It’s not the worst assumption they could have, is it?” Nicolas smirked, and Dorian would swear it was the flirtatious one he had seen just a few weeks ago. 

“I don't know, is it?” Dorian tried to joke back, but he could feel his heart fluttering. 

“Do you always answer questions with another question?” Nicolas stepped closer, posing the challenge. 

“Would you like me to answer in some other fashion?” Dorian quipped back, giving Nicolas time to back down. To end this game they had fallen into again. 

Nicolas did not back down, instead stepping forward until their lips were almost touching. 

“If you are capable.” 

With that, Dorian threw all his caution to the wind and closed the distance. The kiss was... sloppy in all honesty. Nicolas did not have much practice, but somehow it still managed to be perfect. 

“If you are capable,” Dorian murmured once they had parted, “The nonsense you speak.”

Nicolas laughed, “You realize this makes the rumor somewhat true.” 

“They did not bother me, Inquisitor.” Dorian stepped back, his voice returning to normal volume, “I was unsure of how they would affect you.” 

“Why is that? No rumors we've heard have bothered me so far.” Nicolas leaned against the wall. 

“The last time we spoke about…such matters you seemed to not be able to leave fast enough.” 

Nicolas looked at his feet for a moment. He sometimes has a difficult time putting his thoughts into words. 

“I… I wanted to be sure before I said anything.” he answered sheepishly.

“What do you mean, ‘sure’?” the mage asked. Sure about what? 

“Sure about me...” Nicolas tried to explain, “And my preferences…”

Dorian had known about his sexuality for as long as he could remember thinking about it. There was never a doubt in his mind that he could only ever fall in love with a man. 

“You didn't know?” Dorian sat in his chair, awaiting the explanation he could see forming in Nicolas’ mind. 

“How can I put this… When you said you didn't want to live your life screaming on the inside, it made me realize something. I wouldn't have been screaming. I would have done whatever my parents had asked of me. I was raised to do so. I never imagined I would...end up with someone I loved.” 

“Like love wasn't meant for you.” Dorian finished, knowing the pain too well. 

“Exactly. My parents had a deep respect for each other, but there was no love. That was normal to me. I never questioned it.” Nicolas finally looked up at Dorian, “Flirting was determined by social standing. Which match would make my family stronger. I never questioned it, until…” he blushed. 

“Until…” Dorian prompted.

“Until flirting with you felt right. Not like it was the smart thing to do, but the right thing.” 

Dorian was stunned, he remained silent. 

“I apologise if my running off hurt you at all.” Nicolas coughed nervously, “I didn't want to risk hurting both of us by not being sure.” 

Dorian stood up and kissed him again, this time sweeter and much more chaste. 

“Thank you, for thinking of that.” 

In the past, a few men had used him as their deciding factor. No one had ever tried to protect him from feeling that way. No one had taken his feelings into consideration. 

“So, is this alright with you?” Nicolas asked, “Because I'll be honest, I'm a little out of my depth here.” 

“Just keep being yourself.” Dorian instructed, sealing it with one last kiss.


	5. Amulet

“You have too many people asking you for everything under the sun. I won't be one of them.” Dorian headed down the stairs, leaving Nicolas there with a stunned look on his face. 

Nicolas had to deal with people begging and outright demanding that he do their bidding. However, Dorian refused to even ask him. He did not want to be another person making demands of the Inquisitor. 

Why did that make Nicolas want to retrieve this amulet for him even more? 

~*~*~*~*~

“Does Sparkler know we're doing this?” Varric asked as they entered the center of Val Royeaux. 

“Not exactly.” Nicolas responded. 

“Did he ask you to do this?” Cassandra asked. 

“Not exactly.” He repeated. 

“If my hearing was correct, he asked you to not get involved. At all.” Solas answered, annoyed that he was being dragged along. 

“He did what?” Cassandra asked, “Then why are we here?” 

“It'll be a nice surprise! He'll love it when he gets it.” Nicolas waved his hand, dismissing their negative thoughts. 

“You are hopeless.” Varric chuckled, as she scanned the square, “Is that him?” 

The man he pointed to matched the description Leliana gave him. As they walked towards him, the man began to grin.

“The Inquisitor. Yes. Good good.” Ponchard began his list of demands. 

Cassandra sighed. Another week wasted playing pointless political games. They had just finished helping Josie raise a family to nobility for reasons Cassandra did not fully understand, but Nicolas had been adamant that it was important. Surely there must have been a more efficient way. But Nicolas was always the diplomat- 

Her train of thought was interrupted by a dark chuckle. She had to check to confirm that it was indeed coming from Nicolas. His stance had shifted and he tilted his head. 

“You must not know who I am. Even beyond being the Inquisitor.” He stepped toward the merchant.

“You are a Trevelyan. A man of noble blood. A man of honor.” Ponchard's voice trembled as he stepped back on instinct. 

“A man who could destroy your hopes of social climbing.” His growled as he cornered the man.

Ponchard swallowed hard, “F-forgive me your-your Worship. If you desire, I will have the amulet delivered to Skyhold... Immediately!” He added on quickly.

In an instant Nicolas stepped back, his usual charming smile on his face, “I'm glad we could come to an agreement.” 

He slapped the man's shoulder before turning to leave. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

“I told you I didn’t want this!” Dorian yelled. 

Okay, maybe he wouldn’t be happy as soon as he saw the amulet. Maybe he was serious when he said he didn’t want Nicolas to get involved. Well, it was too late now. 

“I did it for you.” Nicolas gestured to the amulet. 

“What I didn’t want to be indebted to anyone to you or anyone. Now I am!” Dorian turned away, exasperated. 

“You’re not indebted to me. This is a gift!” 

Dorian shook his head, pacing across the floor. Nicolas steeled himself. He waited for Dorian to turn around again. He waited for Dorian to call everything off. Wherever this relationship was heading could end. 

“Someone intelligent would cozy up to the Inquisitor if they could. They would be foolish not to.” 

“But you’re not anyone.” Nicolas tilted his head. Did Dorian not understand why he was different from the others? 

“They’ll say I’m the magister who’s using you.” Dorian’s voice dropped lower.

“So use me then.” Nicolas smirked. He didn’t care about what others had to say about their relationship, and if that made him naïve, then so be it. The only input that mattered to him was Dorian’s. 

All the tension in Dorian’s shoulders relaxed. He could not help but laugh. 

“Oh, you are glorious.” the mage shook his head, adoration replacing frustration. “I am an ass at accepting gifts.” 

“No more than usual.” Nicolas muttered, trying to cloak the relief on his face. 

Dorian ignored him and bowed, “I apologize and I thank you.”

Nicolas stepped forward and pulled Dorian closer to him. This wasn’t the end of them. He had been so afraid for a moment there. Nicolas knew how he felt about Dorian, but he did not know how the other man felt. Not truly. Perhaps that was a conversation to have another time. 

For now, he would enjoy this moment. And this kiss.


	6. Foolish

The art of seduction was never something that Dorian had to struggle with. Subtlety was his strong suit. It was integral to his magic weidling. The simplest flick of a finger, or the slightest gesture. All movements had to be precise and intentioned. 

The same could be said in the pursuit of his Inquisitor.

He and Nicolas had been flirting for a time. They had stolen themselves to the darkest corners of the great hall. And the library. And Nicolas’ chambers. And his tent that one time. 

The point is, nothing else had progressed. Besides some wandering hands, Nicolas did not ask for anything else. He did not insist upon anything else. He did not take. At first Dorian attributed that to his lack of experience, but… Nicolas was a quick study in all other areas. 

Perhaps Dorian was being too subtle. Nicolas was many things, but he was not very perceptive. Dorian began to hatch a plan. Nicolas was away with Blackwall, Vivienne and Varric, but according to his letter he would be back by tonight. So Dorian went to the Inquisitor's chambers, and waited. Perhaps that was being too bold, but desperate times called for desperate measures. 

Nicolas’ footsteps made their way up the stairs, and Dorian walked towards him. 

“It’s all very nice, this flirting business. I am, however, not a nice man.” Dorian sauntered closer. 

Nicolas wrinkled his nose, but before he could give some witty retort, Dorian continued. 

“So here is my proposal. We dispense with the chit chat and move on to something more primal.” his voice closer to a purr, “It’ll send tongues wagging, of course. Not that they aren’t already wagging.” 

Dorian circled around Nicolas, like one would circle around its prey. Nicolas did not seem bothered, an amused smile on his face. Dorian grabbed his hips, pulling Nicolas’ ear closer to his lips. 

“I suppose it really depends. How bad does the Inquisitor want to be?”

Nicolas easily broke out of Dorian’s hold to assess his face. 

“What has gotten into you?” Nicolas chuckled, his voice low. 

“Whatever do you mean?” Dorian asked, attempting to keep his voice husky. 

Nicolas wrapped his arms around Dorian, pulling him closer, “I mean, this feels like a facade. Just speak plainly.”   
Dorian nearly screamed. He would tear his hair out if he had not put so much effort into earlier. How could he be any plainer? He was being so very obvious. What did he have to do? Strip his clothing and sprawl on his bed? Actually, that’s not the worst idea…

Dorian leaned in and kissed Nicolas, pouring his intention into the kiss. Nicolas responded in kind, but never pushed it further. He never took the initiative. Dorian nearly growled and pressed his hips flush against the other man. If he wanted plainly, Dorian could give him plainly. 

That made Nicolas pause. Dorian could feel his partner’s eyebrows shoot up. He pulled away.

“O-oh.” Nicolas stuttered, a blush on his cheeks.

“Is that agreeable with you?” Dorian asked, trying to hide his amusement. 

Nicolas nodded quickly, “More than agreeable.” 

“Good.” Dorian leaned in and kissed him again, sealing the deal. 

~*~*~*~*~*~

Hours later, Dorian strode around the room. He was nude, and for once not complaining about the cold. 

“I do like your quarters.” Dorian began as he scanned the room. 

“Getting comfortable?” Nicolas asked, rolling onto his side on his bed. 

“Do not misunderstand.” Dorian sat on the bed, “I am not suggesting we venture into shared domesticity. However, I find your tastes are a bit austere.” 

“Make whatever changes you wish.” Nicolas waved his hand. He had no real attachments to this room. It was comfortable- lavish even. But the decor never spoke to him. It didn’t feel like home.

Dorian began to run his finger down Nicolas’ chest, “That’s not what I want.”

Nicolas suppressed a shudder, “Well, then what do you want?” 

Dorian’s finger stopped, “You caught me.” He pulled his hand away. 

Nicolas shifted himself to sit up, wanting to look Dorian in the eye. 

“I’m curious where this goes. You and I. It would be reasonable to end it here. We had our fun, and now it's back to business as usual. ” 

“Is that what you want?” Nicolas asked, a hint of hurt in his tone. 

“I like you more than I should. More than is wise. If we leave it here, I will be unsatisfied, but it’s better than the alternative.” Dorian looked up at the ceiling, avoiding Nicolas’ eyes. 

“What alternative?” Nicolas asked, wishing Dorian would answer his question directly. 

“Walking away would be harder then.” Dorian looked him in the eyes.

“I don’t want to walk away, Dorian. I can’t see that changing anytime soon.” Nicolas answered openly and honestly, “Is that so shocking?” 

“I’ve learned not to hope for more. I’d be foolish to.” Dorian looked down at his hands. 

Nicolas brushed his fingertips against Dorian’s jawline, “So, let’s be foolish.” 

Dorian leaned into the touch, “Hard habit to break.” 

“I’m good at breaking things.” Nicolas grinned, cupping Dorian’s cheek. 

Dorian averted his eyes before sighing, “Hopefully not everything.” 

Before Nicolas could reply, Dorian looked up. Vulnerability flickered across his face before he built a facade. 

“Care to inquisit me again?” he smirked, “I will be more direct with my instructions.” 

“I think I did just fine, given it was my first time.” Nicolas rolled his eyes before crawling over Dorian slowly. 

“Such an inflated ego you have.” Dorian teased once again, allowing himself to be pushed onto the bed.


	7. Specialties

“As the Inquisitor, you must be trained. You cannot continue to spar with those who are picking up a sword for the first time in their lives.” Cullen explained again. 

Nicolas still was not in favor of this suggestion, “I don’t understand why you two can’t just train me.” he gestured to the Commander and the Seeker. 

They looked at each other before shaking their heads. They continued to lead the irate Inquisitor through the main hall. 

“I do not wield a greatsword. I cannot teach a method of fighting that I am unfamiliar with.” Cassandra explained. 

“Well, Bull could-” 

“The Iron Bull is skilled, but no master. Sparring with him would only gain you some bruises, but no new insight. To be the best, you must learn from the best.” Cullen continued. 

“So we have gathered the best in multiple disciplines of fighting. All you need to do is talk to them and pick a path.” Cassandra crossed her arms once they made it outside. 

Just then, the gates to Skyhold opened, and three figures entered the fortress. An elven woman and two human men. 

Nicolas looked back at the two warriors, “Any advice?” 

“You know that thing you do with your mouth sometimes?” Cassandra asked. 

“Talk?” 

“Yes. Try not to do that around Ser.” She smirked.

“Ser what?” 

“Exactly. Now go.” She shooed him down the stairs, where he would greet their guests, and his new instructors. 

~*~*~*~*~

Immediately after talking with Breaker Thram, Nicolas knew that being a Reaver was not for him. He suspected that it was the school of fighting that Bull followed, and with him there was more than enough blood on the battlefield. 

Instantly, he wanted to learn more from Ser, the Templar. As a child, Nicolas was expected to join the Templars, but he had not finished his training. The chance to finally complete his training… 

But how would that make him look? He sided with the mages. While he had conscripted them at first, over time the reigns had been loosened. They were free in all but name. He had done it to protect them, as unpopular as his edict had been at the time. 

If he were to join the Templar Order… what would that say? 

_ “Cullen, may I have a word with you?” Nicolas asked earlier that day, after the first introductions had been made. _

_ The Commander nodded, “Inquisitor.”  _

_ “Do you have any advice on considering joining the Templar order?”  _

_ “Don’t.”  _

He shook his head at the memory and passed by Ser, moving to talk with Lord Chancer. Maybe he could learn something from the Champion. 

~*~*~*~*~

“How much longer do we have to go tramping through the wilderness?” Dorian complained. 

“I would hardly call the Exalted Plains the wilderness. We are following a path.” Cassandra rolled her eyes.

“This is too much greenery for me.” Dorian huffed, stepping over a root. 

Nicolas grinned as he folded the Heraldry over his arm, “That’s the last one. We can head back to camp.”

He had committed to the path of the Champion. This would be his chance to reach for glory and join the tales of old. He would be a champion. Strong and unbeatable. 

Then he felt it. The fade rift reacting to his mark. It awakened and demons came pouring out. 

“Be ready.” Nicolas shouted as he pulled out his sword. 

He charged into battle, knowing he had his friends by his side. These fade rifts were typically easy to overpower. They were used to these by now.

The first few waves were normal. A few Shades. A couple of Wraiths. Even a Terror Demon. The rift grew weaker and Nicolas stepped toward it, lifting his hand to finish it. However, this time, instead of closing the rift something else came out of it. An Arcane Horror. 

“Kaffas.” Dorian shouted. 

They had only faced one Arcane Horror so far, and it had ended in a retreat. 

“Fall back!” Nicolas shouted. He had turned to run, but found himself frozen. He could not move. It had paralyzed him. 

“Inquisitor!” Varric yelled, he was trapped in place as well. Dorian was trapped as well. They could not break the hold the demon had over them.

Cassandra immediately ran back, putting her shield before her. 

“You have no power here!” she growled as the earth around her shook. Nicolas felt himself regain control over his legs. She had cancelled out the demon’s magic and saved him. 

As he regained his breath, she had fought on. Together they were able to take down the final creature and Nicolas closed the rift. 

“Thank you, Cassandra. You saved us.” Nicolas smiled. 

“You would do the same for me.” she nodded as she re-sheathed her sword. 

“If only I could.” he trailed off, lost in thought. A decision forming in his mind.

~*~*~*~*~

“Ser. I am ready to learn the ways of the Templar.” Nicolas said. 

“There will be pain.” Ser said. 

“I am aware.” Nicolas nodded. 

“There isn’t much glory in this way of life. It could kill you.” the old man continued, “Champions get songs written about them.” 

“The mark on my hand attracts demons. I need to be able to weaken their powers. To protect those around me.” 

Ser appraised the young man before him. He seemed so different from the man he had met just days ago. He was determined, his eyes had a cold resolve in them. He had made his choice. 

“I can train your body, but the title will be up to you.” Ser picked up a sword, “Let’s go.” 

~*~*~*~*~

It had taken a few weeks, but thanks to Nicolas’ training in his youth he had succeeded in his training. 

He walked up the stairs to his quarters, sweat drying on his skin. He grimaced, he should probably bathe. The hot water would work wonders on his aching muscles. Then again, his bed was a lovely temptation. 

He fell onto the bed, face first. Not yet removing his sparring gear. Vivienne had approved of his choice and offered to spar with him, letting him counteract her magical abilities. It was draining, both mentally and physically. But now he could protect his friends. At least after this quick nap- 

“I must say, your library is lacking.” Dorian sighed as he entered the room. Nicolas rolled over and watched the man walk right to his private collection of tomes. 

It was his fault really. He had given Dorian permission to do this. Whenever he wanted, he said. What was he thinking? Oh right. That he cared for the other man. 

“If there are any books you think would be helpful, write an official request.” Nicolas explained again, knowing Dorian would never listen. 

He stood from the bed, walking closer to the mage. 

“Yes, yes. But how will your agents know Tevinter literature that isn’t just propa-” Dorian cut himself off, turning to face the Inquisitor. 

“Your smell…” he started. 

“To be fair, you barged in before I could bathe.” Nicolas crossed his arms. 

“No, no. That smell is horrendous, but underneath that.” Dorian stepped closer. 

“Under the sweat and dirt?” Nicolas raised an eyebrow. 

“You smell like… the air after lightning strikes...like _ lyrium _ .” Dorian assessed him, “It’s... _ attractive _ .” 

“So, you know then.” 

“I must admit, the abilities of your southern colleagues is a tad unnerving. Do you plan to join the Order once this is over?” he asked casually. 

Nicolas shook his head, “No. That dream has long since passed.” he wrapped his arms around the mage before him, “I have new dreams, and a new destiny.” 

Dorian genuinely smiled for a moment, reassured. However, that could only last for a moment. 

“I come here to simply look for a book, and the Inquisitor insists on manhandling me. How scandalous.” he teased. 

“I thought you would appreciate a little manhandling.” Nicolas grinned, falling into the easy conversation. He was relieved that Dorian was okay with his decisions. 

“Come back to me after you’ve had a bath.” he wrinkled his nose and Nicolas released him from his embrace. Dorian quickly, and comically stepped back. “Seriously, darling. You’re worse than Blackwall.” 

Nicolas laughed as Dorian dashed out the door. He would get him back for that insult. After he had a bath, of course. Then Dorian would pay.


End file.
